


No Screen Kiss

by orphan_account



Category: Romeo Must Die
Genre: Character of Color, F/M, Female Character of Color, Female Characters, Ficlet, Future Fic, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Post-Canon, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-05
Updated: 2007-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:49:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	No Screen Kiss

Trish had always been around boys. She'd run around with Colin and his friends playing hoops and learning dance moves, learned to talk the way the big boys did, because that's what the boys thought was important. She had her ear pinched once by Momma for forgetting it wasn't indoors language.

Then high school came, and make-up and fashion, and boys changed. Now she would hear through the grapevine that Colin's friends ranked Lashawn Mortimer at 10, while she was just nine. She learned faster after that, about hair and lotions and clothes.

That she liked. Being ranked higher. And the boys would keep coming, keep asking, keep looking. She'd not give them a second look, but just saying no felt good. It felt powerful.

Sometimes, people around her disappeared. When she was a kid, she thought they just moved. "Where's Tom?" she would sometimes ask her father, or "When will we go see Mr Travers again?" but he'd just pet her hair and say they've gone away. She missed them sometimes, and thought it very rude they'd left without telling her good-bye. She'd forget about them.

Then she grew up.

There was that night behind Silk's, and the gunshot and the retort, the trashcans falling and rolling so loud she thought her ears would burst, and she found out how easy it was, how easily it could happen, how quickly.

Boys talked trash. The most popular among them were the ones that made killing and raping sound like a cool night out.

Trish rolled with it. Did her best. Boys will be boys. She just didn't have to like them. She didn't have to respect them, either. Make them look and want, and then tell them no. It wasn't much of a punishment, but it was as well as she could do.

Han was as different as could be.

"Can't we skip this and get right to the important bit?"

"This is the important bit."

Trish sighed and fell into position.

"Just concentrate." He stepped behind her, and put his hand on her belly, his fingers cool and light on her skin. "Feel the ki collecting right here. Then release it forward."

She looked at his profile in the morning light, white and dark, with the tall windows behind him. He wasn't the sort to get his mind off a mission. The only way to direct his attention was by changing it. She found she wasn't, at this particular moment, feeling this particular mission.

"Han."

He looked at her then, so open and innocent it was impossible to think him badass, and just as impossible not to grin. He noticed her smile and the look in her eye, and understanding dawned.

It wasn't a big screen kiss. Their noses bumped and a little later their teeth clanged, too. But by this time, the light was around them and inside them too, and for once there was no thought of strength or pain.

Later, she taught him to dance.


End file.
